


A Lion with a Crown of Dust and Gold

by queenslayer



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, GoT modern au, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-08 23:29:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7777852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenslayer/pseuds/queenslayer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU. Hoping to add chapters.</p><p>TW: Domestic violence, substance abuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sharp Hint of New Tears

Her right hand reached for the mirror that had fogged from the steam of her shower. Her once white skin was beat red from the scorching temperature of the water she had just endured, the water that couldn't get her clean enough. Her eyes moved up the length of her right arm, looking at the color as it crawled up and onto her shoulder, patches of white peeking through. The tips of her fingers wiped away the film on the glass as she attempted to make out her reflection. She first caught her eyes through the haze, a vivid emerald that had been made brighter through the saline of her tears. The whites were bloodshot red, heavy eyelids swollen from her drunkenness, and the bottom part of her lip split down the middle from where she had fallen after he shoved her.

She was down half a bottle of her husband’s imported Scotch, the bottle laying on its side, amber liquid twinkling through the glass and under the soft lights of the bathroom. There were red lipstick stains on the lip of the bottle, tucked up and under the loosely fitted cap. She could have finished it all by now, but she knew that if she did, she wouldn’t wake up for work in the morning on time, and that would prompt questions from her brother. Steadying herself on the sink, she just stared, wet toes curling against the wet and cold marble floor. Her tongue darted out of her mouth to lick the blood on her lip, its taste spilling over it. Closing her eyes, she saw him there, she heard him yell, his deep voice booming through her chest, and the feel of his thick and heavy fingers grabbing at her when she refused to listen. She gasped for a breath of air, opening her eyes to find her hazy reflection once more. 

When would it be too much? When would he go too far? It had been twenty years of suffering in this prison that was her life, and for what? Robert's own prison was just as ugly and dark, his substance abuse worse and worse with each passing year. She couldn't stay, but she couldn't leave either. 

Cersei slumped to the floor, the coldness of it sending a shiver through her body. She rested her head against the bowl of the sink as she brought her knees to her chest. Her naked body was small and weak, offering a presentation of Cersei Lannister that none had ever seen before. The tears came again even though she was sure they had been through with her. She couldn't believe she had anything left to give, but that was her husband, always taking from her, even after she was depleted. 

It was then she heard her name in the distance, through the closed double doors of her bathroom and into her bedroom. She had no idea what time it was, but it had to have been after two in the morning. She misplaced her phone and couldn't check, and it was probably lost among the mess of her husband's office, their fight this time more destructive than usual. She heard it again, it was closer now, but she couldn't move, clinging to the sink. It it was Joffrey or Tommen, she would have been mortified. They couldn't find her like /this/.

"I'm fine, sweetheart, I'll be out in a minute." She lied, hoping that would stop whichever one of her sons she thought it was. But then the door opened, revealing her brother, her lover, Jaime. He was standing tall, his jacket beaded with rain from the storm outside. His hair was wet, and his beard the same. Cersei became dizzy then, closing her eyes to regain composure, but also to avoid his gaze. 

"Cersei, what the fuck?!" He said immediately, snatching a white cotton towel from the rack adjacent to the shower, and then falling to his knees at her side. He wrapped her in it, her lips trembling and kissed with a light color of blue. Jaime removed his coat, pulling her into him as he tried to get her warm. The room itself was hot and humid from her shower, but her body was like ice. "Look at me," Jaime said, his hand finding the side of her face to direct her gaze. The pad of his thumb pressed against her lip gently, trying to determine the depth of the cut. 

"Good gods, Cersei...," was all he could say as he noticed the cut on her head, above her left eye, something she hadn't seen in her reflection earlier. Jaime saw the half emptied bottle of liquor then. Shaking his head and out of frustration he kicked it away and watched it sputter across the floor, breaking against the tub. The sound startled her, causing her to cling closer to his chest. 

"Have you lost consciousness? Tell me...what happened!? Did you pass out?" He looked at her, trying to keep her awake as she appeared to be in and out of consciousness. Jaime struggled to tell if it was due to the alcohol or because she hit her head. 

"I-I...I don't know." She answered. 

"We have to go to the hospital."

"No!" She spoke louder now, but it was still a muted version of herself. "We can't. I won't go." 

"You don't have a fucking choice. We are going!" Jaime was angry, frustrated, and upset. He had never seen her in such a state, and the weakness evident in his sister now scared him more than anything. "Tommen called me. He said he heard him yelling, you screaming, and then crashing from Robert's study. What happened? Did he hurt you? Did he do this or was it the alcohol? Tell me, Cersei...I need you to tell me!" 

She lied, of course, saying it was the alcohol, but Jaime knew. better than that. 

"That son-of-a-bitch, I will kill him. I'm going to fucking kill him!"


	2. Exhale

"Stay with me, " Cersei whispered, lifting her chin to look up at him. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to keep her eyes open, the heaviness of the lids taking their toll. Still, she had managed to keep her brother from laying a hand on her husband for twenty years, and she wouldn't stop now. 

Jaime sighed, looking down at her as he cradled her in his arms. He was just as angry with her as he was with his brother-in-law, and even more than that, himself. What had they become? It didn't have to be this way, but he knew she wouldn't have it any other way. Robert Baratheon was a few months out from his reelection as senator, hoping to serve a second, even more successful term. All thanks to Jaime and Cersei's father, Tywin Lannister, Jaime often thought, but never dared to say it out loud. 

"This has gone too far, Cersei. I can't just pretend that you're not half-conscious right now, that I don't know whether it is because of the alcohol or because he hit you." 

"He didn't hit me! I fell, it was an accident. We were arguing and I tripped on my way out. We were both drunk..." 

"You were arguing and he laid hands on you. You act as though I have never seen the bruises before, that the kids haven't said things, eluded to things he has done to both you and them. I trusted you to handle him because you promised, but this- no, Cersei, this is enough!" 

She was silent for a moment, sighing against him as she reached up to curl her fingers into his t-shirt. He was warm, and they were so still in that moment that she felt the beating of his heart in his chest. Cersei had always surrendered to him in these quiet moments they had. There was no one to judge them, and no one to think she was weak because of it. 

"It will be worth it in the end. Just stay with me now, please." She offered no physical protest, and her verbal one was so soft, soft enough to make him give in. It was a subtle manipulation, one he was fully aware of, and one she knew well. 

"That's what you always say," he said defeatedly, shifting underneath her to make his position somewhat more comfortable. "I will go downstairs and get you something to eat and some water. I won't let you go to bed before that. We have to flush this out of you."

Cersei's lips parted, a moan rumbling low in her throat as she didn't want Jaime to move her. She could have slept there and like that so easily, and she wished he would have let her. 

"Tell Tommen that I'm fine, that I just fell. I don't want him to think-"

Jaime cut her off. 

"Cersei, he's 12, not 6. You can't lie to him about this anymore. He knows. Myrcella and Joffrey know. You're in denial." 

She closed her eyes, Jaime's truth, the actual truth, not kind. 

"Come on, up," Jaime said, pulling himself up, and helping her along the way. Her moved the damp towel to her shoulders once they stood, leading her to the massive bed in her suite. "I'll get you a t-shirt." 

"I'm sorry," She whispered quietly once he came back from her closet with a t-shirt in hand, tossing her towel to the ground and helping her put it on. Those were two words he rarely heard from her, to him or to anyone for that matter. 

"I hate him," Jaime said again, ignoring her unwarranted apology as he pulled her frail arms into an old shirt of his she had kept tucked away. She smiled when she saw what he had picked when it was finally on. 

"You're so obsessed with yourself, aren't you?" 

"No, I am obsessed with you. I'm starting to think it's a curse." He smiled meekly, standing back to look at this unfamiliar sight of unkempt wet locks, the darkness of it overtaking her head. Jaime missed her blonde hair now more than ever. 

"You're just now starting to think that? You may be a little late on that." 

Jaime bent at his waist, pressing his cheek against her own before placing a kiss at her ear, taking her hands in his. "Wait here, I'm going to the kitchen. Don't sleep or you'll wake up in the ER, hm? I don't give a shit about it ending up in the tabloids."

She nodded, lifting her feet off the floor and on to the bed. Cersei brought her hand to her mouth, concealing a yawn. She breathed when he disappeared into the hallway, disappointed that Jaime had even discovered what had happened. 

"Gods...," she said quietly to herself, pulling her body up the length of the bed so she could sit at the head of it. And there she waited for him to return, trying her best not to shut her eyes.


End file.
